1 - Spilled coffee

"You need some change," said Zeta. "How long has it been since you last sniffed cologne, tell me?"

Philandra, with specs on her deep-oceanic eyes, dropped her head on the back of the mahogany chair, her messy bun shifting to the of her head on its own accord. "Huh."

Zeta hopped off the chair noiselessly, tip-toeing to the side of the white roofed space. Adjusting the angle for a perfect shot, she mimicked the walk of a cat backward, towards the tinted window. And she hit it.

A bright beam of light hit the pre-Uni student casting a shadow right before her eyes. She kept staring at the handcrafted chestnut eyed bird on her 18th century themed wall for a few more seconds before she turned back to see her guilty faced best friend ready with a Talcum powder bottle in her defence.

Not moving her butt an inch, she tilted her neck while her eyes with another huff, in no mood for their classic sword fight with blunt bottles.

"Please don't upload it?"

"Upload what? I was just practising photography, as a new hobby of mine." Ze said while placing the bottle back on the vanity adorned by hazel lights.

"Do Not upload it on my fake dating profile about which I am not supposed to know," she said with a half-smirk rocking her head back and forth.

Ze's smile went till her golden phoenix eyes, with those high cheekbones exposing a rosy hue. Who knows what this blushy cute five-foot is keeping from you?

"Okay, fine. Look I just want you to get out of this all-brown space and explore a little. C'mon, add some colours to your life baby."

" I will, once I get into my dream uni, I will explore everything. But now I don't think I can focus anywhere else."

"Pi"

"Hmmm," she turned her gaze to Ze.

"You have all but focused on this wall for the last two hours," Ze stated as a matter of fact.

Philandra's motionless self stiffened, then relaxed. She put her legs out of the criss-cross, not feeling the life of her back, she finally got up.

Pi actually spent most of her time staring at the wall, ceiling or out the window after she cut out her social life one year back. The only faces she would see were of her parents, Mary and Zeta occasionally.

"What should I start with?"

"Do you know what all has changed in your neighbourhood in the past year?" Ze simpered and walked twerked out the door.

Philandra followed out, for the first time in a week. Mary stopped halfway in the hallway, with her tray of pie and pink juice of I don't know what, eyes bigger than usual complemented by a full cheek smile.

Picking a piece of pie from a circle with one triangle missing, she walked waving her hips in a right to left motion, adding a jiggle after every three steps.

Mom could be heard bargaining with a door to door vegetable seller and Ze seemed to have learned quite a lot from her. Poor Mr Brinjal seller!

Folk restaurant cum bar, a new business has come up at Mr Mount's property. Old Mr Mount passed away a month back after his 40 years of being a diabetic patient. The now 35 years old Mr Mount seems to have finally brought alive his life-long dreams, his one of a kind business and living with the love of life.

"Hey Philandra," called someone at the top of his lungs.

It was Philip from the opposite building, the curly-haired tanned former classmate of mine. She looked up to see him all grinning in his white t-shirt.

"Hey rabbit teeth, how are you?" She replied, just like old times.

"Good. Hi Zeta." He waved with equal enthusiasm to the one now standing beside Pi. Ze waved back at him, along with an affiliative smile.

"We got a discount of five bucks. My skills are improving. Uhu."

"Ze, you spent ten minutes bargaining to get a discount of five bucks? Seriously?"

"Yes, it's called anti-sales strategy and I will get better at it, now come on let's go," Ze said. She caught her hand out of blue and pulled her, leaving Pi to trail behind herself with the same speed at an arm's length through the pane made of larger than usual horizontal pieces of tiles. The road was built 10 years from now, engineered by old Mr Mount.

Mr Mount Jr was watering his lush grassy lanes inhabited by rows of lavender and rosemary on each side. Some new variants seemed to be planted recently protected by rounds of knee-heightened bamboo fences. His choices were one of a kind, like Leo.

"Hello, there girls. I see my dream of my favourite neighbour visiting me today is coming true. Woah. I should have also dreamt of getting rich," said Leo, coming from the left and embracing Pi in his arms, in his barely noticeable but still sexy Spanish accent.

"You have a rich boyfriend, you don't need to rely on luck or labour for money," commented the Omni-knowledgeable Miss Ze. Leo chuckled, giving a sense of jerk to the one in her embrace. Pi stiffened, her arm muscles flexing and core tightening under her long t-shirt, but still gentle and light on Leo's still-high-for-her middle back.

"Any chances of you going bi," murmured Ze to Leo's mid-abdomen, feeling his strong abs against herself. This is the moment you know she works out when you see how Leo's ripped arms fail to get those thin arms off him. She softly kneaded her face against his tummy, only not licking him like a dog.

"Ahemmmm," came from somebody, eyes on how his boyfriend struggled in a fit of laughter. Mount knew how to make proper use of a thing, a smashing eye revolting display of his perfectly shiny teeth called a smile. With orange filled lips, no one anyway knew where else to focus.

Zeta was either satisfied for the day or hungry as a lioness (as she called herself). She turned her balance one foot to the other momentarily while stretching her arms and neck. Later resting her arms around herself she looked up, eyes relaxing and getting smaller.

"New ones to your collection I see," Pi went round to peep over the tiny newborns. The herbs had simple light green canopy textured leaves. "Well, they look ordinary."

"Aha. Nothing apart from their looks is ordinary about them I would say. These green leaves can turn your hands orange," described Mr Mount in a sing-song tone.

It hits different when something looks so casual but stands out due to its quality. The respect it earns is inevitable, be it biotic or abiotic. It will also always be a matter of question as to how you want to stand out.

As if in an instant the light of the blue sky became out of sight as the mushy clouds covered it up, some rays piercing its way out to reach us. They moved fast, the darker ones who pour, about to roar.

"Let's get inside first," said Leo upon the first sound of the many claps of thunder that were about to follow. Three of them moved quickly to the 1650 themed coffee house entrance, one of the many establishments within this property while Pi trailed behind.

Thunder brought her alive, the sound music to her ears and the flash an art. She stepped backwards slowly towards the building, hands stretched out and face up.

The barista brew coffee in cezves in a large sand-filled pan heating over an open flame. The aroma of rich Arabica beans mixed with the dry dustiness of the sand accompanied by the musty petrichor of the first rain-filled the air.

The bakester, in her late 50s with round hands and fluffy features skillfully, arriving from the kitchen under the attic, delivered freshly baked choux pastries, the fragrance of which made each of their tummy humm.

"I feel like on a date,-" Zeta murmured while chewing " the best one I must say", and eyeing Leo, who was taking charge of the buzzing cafe while Mount relaxed in our company.

The business was established by the great-grandfather of Mount Jr. and has been present for four generations in his family. The walls built with lovely handmade clay bricks with multi shades of gold and light highlights over the warm red-brown base with thick wooden framed window panes possessing eight square grids.

Attached to the right wall, at the end of the room was a dark chocolate coloured walnut wood staircase with wide treads and wide planks, connecting to the attic. The vertical wood slats on the left gave it a contemporary look while also separating the area from the 10-foot pivot door leading to the kitchen.

"I have never been to the attic," said Philandra, a sinful solid from the pastry sticking to her noticeably fuller upper lip.

"Me neither," added Zeta, softly blowing her coffee making a slight 'fuuu-fuuu' sound while holding the saucer in the left hand, right below the cup.

"It has been recently renovated." said Mount Jr. "How about a tour later today?"

"Yeah sure," said Philandra, staring at how it must be up there. An unusual lightness hit her like a few kilos got reduced instantly. Feet couldn't feel the surface below it, hands went cold and all her senses started to race, as if she sank a few inches below herself.

Movements could be sensed up the stairs. Nervousness or caffeine aftermath, it wasn't quite clear. The surroundings got reduced to a single 'Humm', like her ears could filter out what it wanted to hear.

Everything faded to a shade of black and fire as the energy got closer. Faint words of a foreign language, familiar but foreign. She couldn't figure what it meant, mind indulged with the slight tilt of the rugged voice. Her exhale rugged, her body under the capture of the relinquishing sensations.

Eyes on the wider final step of the dark wood, the blood flow to her cheeks raising the temperature as if she is set on fire.

The wood creaked, high up in the distance. The millimetres of gap between the dark vertical panes not aiding much to her vision, just the blockage of light expressing to her how close he was.

Every beat of her heart-lub...dub- could be heard distinctly, in unison with the footsteps, one-by-one, second-after-second.

As if this minute will never come to an end!